The Stars
by Harlahartall
Summary: "I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night." (Little snippets of Han's life.)


The day Han Solo rescued Leia Organa was one of the strangest days of his life. Of all the things he'd seen in his galaxy wide travels, nothing was as odd as this little princess who bossed him around from the moment they met. He'd never had any intention to become part of a liberation party for a supposedly filthy rich girl he'd never heard of. He'd never envisioned himself almost getting crushed to death in a trash compactor with said girl, let alone ever having feelings for literal royalty.

Yet there he sat, in the cockpit of his prized ship, thinking about that darn girl. She was nearly ten years his junior and despite having a few redeeming moments, was rather annoying. But on the other hand- she was a strange kind of appealing, possessing wit and strength he couldn't have pictured for a princess.

A sigh escaped Han's lips as he leaned his head on his fist. Seeking comfort, he looked at the stars.

—

In the three years since he'd met Leia, Han had experienced more than he'd personally have liked to. A bounty hunter was after him, he'd been stuck on an oversized cooler, and most of all, spent three years dealing with _her highness._

He still didn't care about the rebellion, but he'd rather be stuck there with Leia than dead at the hands of Jabba. That said, she'd proved to be just as annoying as she was when he met her, picking a fight with him nearly every day. It seemed she argued with him more than trying to start a normal conversation.

Despite that... he found himself frequently trying to come up with excuses to be around her. (His usual method included pestering her with nicknames to get a reaction out of her.) Not that he'd ever admit it aloud, but she'd become the frequent center of his thoughts. He thought about her harsh words, yet her soft eyes. He wondered if she thought about him, but knew she was probably far too busy to worry about a guy like him and resorted to running away from it all.

And then, they found themselves on their way to Bespin. The hyperdrive was broken, an annoying robot was up his ass, and he now had weeks to spend with Leia. There was an unspoken tension between the two ; they'd softened their words to each other, often exchanging looks that were confusing to read. But with that, they continued to bicker in order to avoid their feelings.

That was, until, Han found himself moving into the noticeably small passage where Leia was working. "..when you aren't acting like a scoundrel," He'd heard, sending his heart into a frenzy.

The man kept cool and shifted the focus onto her. He was locked in a beam from her eyes, pulling him in figuratively and literally. He was speaking, but not paying attention to the words leaving his mouth.

Their lips met, and he saw the stars.

—

As Han sat in the ewok village on Endor, he realized just how _happy_ he was. He didn't think he'd get to this point; firstly, he didn't think he would ever end up at a treehouse party with miniature bears who had tried to kill him some hours previous. Secondly, he'd been alone for most of his life (save for Chewie) and was perfectly content that way, but being there under the starlight by a fire with Leia made him feel extremely safe and welcome. She had become his family.

There was a beautiful woman laying on his shoulder, smiling from ear to ear. He loved seeing her this way, a way he hadn't seen her in the years he'd known her.

Love overwhelmed him, and he wrapped his arm around the woman next to him. She briefly looked at him, smile still gracing her face.

Han sighed contently and looked up at the stars.

—

Getting married was never something on Han's bucket list- he was sure he would never settle down with anyone. All he needed was himself, Chewie, and his ship. But when he was on a knee staring up at Leia with hopeful eyes, he knew he wouldn't have to settle for anything.

He'd taken her out for an evening stroll while they were visiting Coruscant. They'd already eaten their dinner, so he decided to be a spur of the moment type romantic and grab her hand, insisting they go for a walk. Leia, being the secret hopeless romantic she was, found that it was extremely charming.

They'd stopped by a small body of water and sat on the bench before it. Han fiddled with the armrest below him, stomach twisting because he wasn't accustomed to feeling this nervous. He couldn't help it; she'd gone through so much in her life. She was just beginning to open up to him, he was just beginning to break down her emotional walls. They'd talked about marriage before but the girl was so guarded he didn't know if she would reject him or not- and that rejection was one he was sure he'd never recover from.

"Han.." Leia cautiously asked, watching the man shift into a kneeling position.

"Listen, princess, I love you. A lot. Please, you know how I feel about you.. just... marry me?" He fumbled, tan cheeks reddening.

Not long after, the two were nestled happily on the bench, one wearing a new ring on her finger, and the other with his eyes upon the stars above them.

—

Watching Leia in so much pain made his whole body hurt. He felt it in his blood. The scene made the man feel extremely bad for getting her pregnant- not that it was an accident, but at the time, they weren't exactly thinking about how much pain she'd be in.

The labor was a long one, spanning what Han was later notified as 18 hours. He didn't realize that many hours had flown by so quickly, as he was in a constant haze. He was so enamored with the fact that Leia, though in tremendous amounts of pain, stayed so tough during the delivery of their twins. The only real reasons he knew she was hurting was the sneaky bead of sweat moving down her head and the pressure from her grip on his hand.

A baby girl already in her arms, the medbot handed an identical boy to the new mother. Han did his best to keep his composure, but they were so _tiny._ He'd never seen anything that small before.

He pressed a kiss to Leia's head. "Look at that, princess,"

Leia's eyes were closed and she was breathing deeply. Once they opened again, they were pure and bright, as if all of the bad things that happened to here were forgotten. It made Han's heart swell.

A few hours after the delivery, Han decided to show his children- a phrase he wasn't used to yet- around the delivery room. Using the most tender yet firm grip, he held the newborns in either of his arms and made his way around. He showed them the different equipment, not that he knew what it was. He also showed them their mother, making sure to point out how pretty she looked. His final stop on the tour was the window, which showed a brilliant night sky.

"Those are the stars," he whispered. "When you get scared, or lonely, or need me and I'm not there, look at 'em."

The babies were fast asleep. Han looked at the stars before him and felt emotions he didn't know he was capable of.

—

Life became wonderful for Han. He was blessed with three of the most cunning, intelligent, amazing children he could've ever asked for. Not to mention a hot wife that stayed hot as they grew old.

Han didn't slow down with age. If anything, he picked up, trying to prove to himself and everyone around him that age wasn't physical. Sure, his knees ached a lot more than they used to, but otherwise, he kept up with his kids.

Once grandkids came into the picture, Han did find it a little harder to keep up. He had Leia at his side, at least, to help him while gently making fun of his old bones. He, of course, offered the same remarks in return.

Then one evening, the remarks stopped. Han fell extremely ill. It happened so quickly that Leia couldn't process it. She'd never felt so sick in her life. Of all the loss she'd experienced, Han was the one she'd never expected.

But then, on the evening of his memorial, Leia took a step outside to get some air.

She looked at the stars and knew everything would be alright.

—

(A/n: woaaah, 2 stories in 2 days? This is wild. I was supposed to be doing chemistry work when I wrote this, so it seems I get the writing bug only when I'm supposed to be being productive. Oops! I hope you all enjoyed this word vomit. I know it's a little cheesy and discombobulated but I've had this idea in my head for a little bit. I've always had a head cannon that ever since he was little, Han LOVED the stars, so I took that and turned it into this mess! Please let me know what you think, it makes me really happy to hear feedback. Thanks! ❤️)


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